“I don’t know anything but what Pee-wee told me,” said Westy, speaking as much to Warde as to Roy, “but I’m for you all right.”
“And you ought to be proud of your patrol,” said the genial, familiar voice of Mr. Ellsworth, their scoutmaster, trying to reach Westy with his hand.
“Hurrah for the Silver-plated Foxes,” shouted Roy.
“If the leader of the Silver-plated Foxes will give me the floor for a few minutes,” laughed Mr. Ellsworth, “we can get down to business and then——”
“Have the refreshments,” shouted Pee-wee. “Everybody sit down.”
“Also shut up,” shouted Roy.
“Also listen,” said Mr. Ellsworth.
“Absolutely, positively,” said Roy. “First let’s give three cheers on account of Westy being back, I mean three groans.”
“Then,” said Mr. Ellsworth, “as our sprightly leader of the Silver Foxes would say, let’s have a large chunk of silence——”
“And very little of that,” shouted Roy.